


We'll Start Small

by modernfan



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-09 22:43:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3267098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/modernfan/pseuds/modernfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nearly a year has passed since Solas left and Elora Lavellan is still missing him and dissatisfied with her leadership role in the Inquisition.  It's time to make some changes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Elora knew deep down that she had not seen the last of Solas on the day they defeated Corypheus. Everything in his eyes had silently implored her to see that he left her most unwillingly and with a heart every bit as broken as her own. She knew to the depths of her soul that Solas loved her as she loved him and that he had left only because he truly believed he had no other choice. He spoke of her duty as the reason for their parting but deep down, she understood he alluded to some perilous duty of his own that he could not share. He had been as grieved to speak the words that severed him from her as she had been to hear them. That Solas felt so alone he couldn’t share his burden with her saddened her even more than her own pain from losing him.

She had not seen his beloved face for nearly a year now, but the mark on her hand always ached slightly when her thoughts turned to him. He had said that what they had was real, but made a point of speaking in the past tense, as if he had no hope at all of bridging whatever kept them apart. Even with no reason to hope that she would ever see Solas again, what she felt for him was too real to let go. They were not finished. She refused to accept it.

Taking a lover, even after a year without a single word from Solas, was unthinkable to Elora. Her heart was so completely his, no other man had a prayer of even capturing her notice, let alone her hand, although many had tried. Poor Josephine spent an increasing portion of her time sifting through offers ranging from courtly requests to woo Elora to blunt political marriage proposals from nobles and influential tradesmen alike seeking to leverage the Inquisition’s wealth and power for their own benefit.

They sent insipid, horridly written poems, shockingly expensive and impractical finery, and it all made her sick inside. She hated sitting on her throne day after day, forced to smile politely and convey thanks for these insincere and obscenely wasteful offerings. As time wore on, Elora’s patience for any responsibilities not directly related to improving the lives of her people grew exceedingly thin. What were these idiots thinking, sending her solid gold serving spoons - when what she really needed was to adequately feed, clothe and educate the people under her protection?! Just once, she thought, why can’t the chest being presented to me contain something truly useful, like some books or heirloom fruit and vegetable seeds?

Elora took her duty seriously, but became more dissatisfied by the day with her leadership role. Creating alliances and consolidating power strengthened the Inquisition, but the larger the organization grew, the farther removed she felt from the people she wanted to help. She didn’t want the Inquisition’s focus to be on perpetuating itself instead of serving the people. Solas had helped her to understand that most organizations, despite the best intentions, eventually succumbed to this. She did not want the Inquisition to abandon its original purpose.

As if that were not enough to worry about, after defeating Corypheus, an even greater number of Thedosians now insisted on viewing her as practically a living deity. The legends about the Herald of Andraste had grown so ridiculous, after only a year, that hardly anyone outside of her close circle of friends at Skyhold even treated her like a real person anymore. Everything felt too big and wrong and she detested the sensation of losing her identity.

That night, she lay awake in an increasingly agitated state. She attempted to console herself as she always did by recalling her time with Solas. She treasured not just the romantic memories of his worshipful kisses and glances, but the illuminating substance of their talks and the sheer thrill of simply basking in his intellect.

She recalled her talk with Solas after they had returned from the Temple of Mythal. She had chosen not to drink from the well after seeing how adamantly he rejected it. When Solas asked her how she would use the well’s power, she had told him that she would make the future better. Solas had next asked her what if everything turned out worse instead of better, and she had answered: “I’ll take a deep breath, figure out where I went wrong and try again.” At the time he had scoffed, “Just like that?”

She had spent many nights thinking about this particular conversation since Solas had left and still bristled slightly that he had thought her optimism foolishly naïve. She still felt as strongly as ever that Solas was wrong about this. Exasperated, she angrily flung off the coverlet and leapt from the bed, yelling to the empty room, “Yes, damn it, Solas – just like THAT! What’s more, I’ll do it by applying the principles YOU taught me.” And in that instant, her mind was made up.

She quickly threw on some clothes and hurried down the stairs, shoving the door open so suddenly it accidentally knocked the poor guard off balance and sent him stumbling into the nearby wall. The clanking of his armor echoed loudly into the main hall and Elora winced, sending him an apologetic look. To his credit, the guard simply stood taller, pretending nothing at all had happened and deadpanned, “Everything alright, Inquisitor?”

Elora laughed and good naturedly squeezed his shoulder. “Yes, Jerod, I believe it finally is. Now, please go wake up my council and tell them to get their asses over to the war room - PRONTO.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

“And Jerod –“

“Ma’am?”

“Roust Varric, Cassandra, Dorian, Iron Bull, Blackwall, Sera & Cole, too. This is going to be an ‘all hands on deck’ meeting.”

Jerod nodded enthusiastically and rushed off to do her bidding, and before he got out of earshot, she yelled, “Also food – and lots of coffee!” He chuckled, raised his hand in acknowledgement and kept going.

Elora grinned, thinking to herself as she made her way to the War Room, “Now we’re getting somewhere!”


	2. Chapter 2

Cullen strode anxiously through the War Room door to find Elora sitting with her feet propped up on the War Table, contentedly sipping a steaming cup of coffee and nibbling on a sweet roll. Her eyes lit up at his arrival.

“Cullen! Great, you’re here. Everyone’s on their way?”

“Yes, Inquisitor, but is something wrong? You don’t normally call War Council meetings at 3:00 a.m.”

A very un-Inquisitor-like snort escaped Elora and the surprised look on Cullen’s face, combined with his massive effort not to laugh, sent her into peals of laughter. He relaxed and joined in, thinking how nice it was to see her smile naturally again after so long.

Just as Cullen starts to ask her the purpose of the meeting, Cassandra and Josephine walk in. As Cassandra takes her seat and pours herself a cup of coffee, her sharp eyes note Elora’s animated mirth, while Josephine exclaims, “Oh, sweet rolls!” and inhales rapturously as she eagerly grabs one and bites into it.

Varric and Blackwall enter next, with Blackwall silently seating himself and Varric taking a good look around, obviously mentally filing the details away for future story material. Amused, Varric cocks one eyebrow at the sight of Elora’s propped up feet. “Nice table. So, this is where the heavy duty Inquisiting gets done. Always wondered what the War Room looked like.”

Dorian and Bull then make their way in, Dorian sporting flushed cheeks and a wry smirk that revealed they had most definitely not been sleeping. Bull quietly reads Elora’s expression and inquires softly, “Everything okay, boss?” Elora sends him a reassuring smile, which he returns with relief before finding his seat.

Sera shuffles in, disheveled and rubbing her eyes, mumbling under her breath that “Cory-phy-tits better still be dead.” Finally, Cole enters and upon seeing Elora, gasps delightedly. Beaming, he says, “She burns bright again. Still misses him but has to change things. Just like that. Doesn’t want to waste what has been gained.”

Elora lowers her feet from the table, puts down her coffee cup and stands, looking each of her companions in the eye, then draws a deep breath before speaking.

“Friends, we’ve built something incredible in the span of just a few years in response to a crisis which threatened to destroy us all. We not only eliminated this threat, but we succeeded in uniting nearly all of Thedas. We accomplished with a small dedicated group what mighty nations could not, and we did so not by brute force or exploitation, but by cooperation and goodwill. It is no boast to say that the Inquisition is now the single most powerful – and trusted - entity in all of Thedas.”

Good. She had their attention.

“We have accumulated sufficient power and resources to completely remake this nation as we see fit. We either directly control or heavily influence every throne, major social institution and trade arrangement in this land. So far, the Inquisition has remained uncorrupt. I intend to ensure it remains that way.”

“It is time for us to carefully consider what we want the Inquisition’s legacy to be and to lay the foundation for it now. It will take many years to achieve what I have in mind, but we now have the resources and influence to get it done.”

She began to pace slightly as the momentum of her thoughts propelled the words from her lips.

“From today forward, the Inquisition’s express purpose will be to improve the lives of the poor and exploited of all races. We will work to eliminate poverty and ignorance, establishing free institutions of learning in each region of Thedas which will welcome anyone desiring an education – whether they be elves, dwarves, qunari, or human. As Leliana opened the Chantry to all races, the Inquisition will make knowledge available to all.”

“Friends, I mean to permanently dismantle the nobles’ ability to oppress and exploit the poor. We will do this by educating all and by providing a minimum baseline of support for the poor that ensures they are no longer starving and desperate. This plan will most likely take a lifetime to implement, but in time we will eliminate economic slavery and force the nobility to pay a fair living wage to all workers. We will execute the plan gradually enough to maintain political stability, and subtly leverage the Inquisition’s resources and influence to bring into line anyone who actively resists.”

Elora stopped pacing and leaned forward, resting her palms on the War Table, her gaze intense but kind.

“I called all of you here tonight to ask if you will consider making the Inquisition and Skyhold your permanent home - and _this_ mission your life’s work. I cannot do it alone, but with your help, my most trusted friends, I _know_ it is possible.”

Elora sat down and caught her breath, nearly overwhelmed with excitement and purpose. She had never felt so sure of doing the right thing. This was why the mark had come to her and why she was chosen to lead the Inquisition. _This_ was what she was meant to do with her life.

Her mind briefly flashed to Solas and his wise words about the nature of power and its potential dangers. She felt he would approve of her plans and silently thanked him for inspiring them. He might no longer be at her side, but he was still firmly ensconced in her heart and mind and always would be.

Elora smiled fondly and looked up at her friends, all of whom gazed back at her with unqualified assent. One by one, they stood, placing a fist over their hearts in silent pledge. Time seemed to pause for a brief instant and they all glanced at one another as the historic importance of the moment settled over them all. Elora rose again to bow in respect, her eyes misting with gratitude and affection. They would never know how much their support buoyed and soothed her aching heart.

Sera, now wide awake, sniffed loudly, smacked the table with one hand and exulted, “Let’s fucking DO this!” The War Room erupted in cheers, handshakes and congratulatory back slaps, and for the first time since losing her clan, Elora felt she was part of a family again.

When the celebration began to subside, she turned to Josephine, who had dutifully readied her pen and noteboard. “Josephine, please write to the University in Val Royeaux and arrange for an introduction to Lennan, the elven mathematics prodigy studying there who Celene mentioned. I am interested in his thoughts about how best to educate the elves of Thedas on a wide scale. We need to develop a significant number of qualified elven teachers as soon as we can. These children need to learn from someone who looks like them and who they can identify with.

I plan to start small, sending them on teaching sabbaticals to the alienages, orphanages and receptive Dalish clans. They’ll focus on teaching them basic literacy and arithmetic first, instilling in students a hunger for knowledge. Meanwhile, we’ll start building regional schools and equipping them to provide the opportunity for more advanced study. In the cities where enough students attend, we’ll station teachers on a more long term basis. By the time we’ve finished construction and staffing of the regional schools, we’ll have plenty of students ready and eager to come and study.”

Josephine scribbled these notes with alacrity and a motivated gleam in her eye. “At once, Inquisitor, and if I may also suggest…”

“Of course, Josephine, I always welcome and appreciate your input.”

“Including music and art education would provide a cultural common ground for the students. My family can refer a number of accomplished music and art teachers who I am sure would be honored to take part.”

“Fantastic idea, let’s do it. And if you would, please continue your excellent work of closely monitoring the Inquisition’s finances to make sure we don’t overextend ourselves. Slow and steady is our motto here.”

Josephine gave a pleased nod and continued writing, clearly energized by the work ahead.

The room was now buzzing with inspiration and the ideas flowed easily from Elora as she continued brainstorming.

“Varric, can you reach out to your contacts among the surfacer dwarves for promising teaching candidates there? Float the idea of the Inquisition sponsoring craft apprenticeships for students who want to learn a trade and see if they bite. If they do, dangle the carrot of potential joint ownership with the Inquisition of a new surfacer craft guild to get them on board with the idea of no caste or gender restrictions. We’ll need a high profile craftsman and tradesman working together to attract enough dwarves to the program.”

Varric grinned and twirled his pen. “You know, Inquisitor, I think this little venture will not only pay for itself – it’ll turn a nice little profit, too. Sure you don’t have any dwarf blood lurking in your family tree?”

Elora laughed at that and thought to herself – no, but let’s see about getting a little more into yours, my romantically unappreciated friend.

“And Varric, as a respected author and the single most literate person I know -”

She pointedly ignored Dorian’s mock offended sniff.

Elora continued, “I realize you’re under publishing deadlines, but I’d consider it a personal favor if you could also work closely with Dagna to hammer out the more dwarven-centric aspects of the academic curriculum.”

Varric’s eyes slightly narrowed as he met her just-a-touch-too-innocent ones, silently communicating that he was totally on to her. However, she also noted that his eyes were twinkling slightly as he nodded yes. ‘We’ll see,’ they seemed to say. She was pleased to see Varric tentatively considering the idea. Dagna would be an inspired match for Varric – brilliant, adventurous and lovely. And most important, Elora thought, Dagna was actually available. She was determined that someone at Skyhold was going to have a happy love life, and no one deserved it more than Varric Tethras.

“Sera, can you work with the Red Jennies to identify intelligent and gifted children in the cities? We should begin cultivating their talents right away. We’ll provide schooling for all the children, of course, but invite any extraordinarily gifted children and their families - orphans as well - to Skyhold to live here with us. I’ll establish a teaching internship program with Vivienne at the Mage College and Leliana at the Chantry to give the children of Skyhold advanced tutoring until we can secure a permanent teaching staff.”

Sera giggled excitedly. “Stealing all the smart kids right out from under the rich tits’ noses - got it.” Elora waggled her eyebrows conspiratorially at Sera, then turned to Blackwall.

“Blackwall, I’m putting you in charge of getting some living quarters and a classroom ready here at Skyhold for the children coming to study. Once that is done, I’ll be counting on you to mentor them along with Mother Giselle. Keep a close eye on them and let me know how they’re adjusting and if any pressing needs or problems arise. They’ll be looking to you for guidance, especially the boys, and I know you’ll steer them toward the right path.

Blackwall slightly bowed his head and cleared his throat before responding with genuine humility, “You honor me, Lady Inquisitor, and I will not let you or the children down.”

Elora smiled kindly at Blackwall and replied, “I know, and I’ll sleep better knowing you care for them so.”

She then turned to Dorian and could see the wheels turning rapidly in that quick witted mind of his. “Dorian, you’re in charge of fully stocking the library here at Skyhold as well as the ones we’ll have at each of our regional schools. Please gather material from every academic field, trade knowledge and cultural source you can find – I want our students to receive a diverse and well-rounded education. Start aggressively negotiating volume pricing for the textbook production we will need from your contacts in Tevinter.”

Dorian’s eyes blazed with enthusiasm as he answered excitedly, “So my job is to shop for massive quantities of books with someone else’s money – AND throw the Inquisition’s weight around with all the tight-assed Imperium toadies in Minrathous? Dear Maker, I must be dead.” He turned and tapped Iron Bull on the shoulder. “Bull, am I dead?”

Bull shot him a lazy grin and in a gravelly voice laden with carnal promise, “Not even close, sugar britches. You can tell me all about _leather bound_ books when the meeting is over.”

Dorian swallowed audibly and the hairs on his arms stood on end. “Do continue, Inquisitor.”

Elora looked at Cullen and Cassandra next, wondering if they might not also benefit from a little discreet matchmaking as well. “I need you two to work together to scout potential locations for the schools we will build. Make note of the natural resources in the area to minimize the need to ship building materials and to keep our construction costs down. Make sure there’s an adequate water supply and also check on available local labor. We want to improve the economy of each area where we build a school. If we do this right, we’ll generate even stronger goodwill from the people for the Inquisition, and we’ll need that to counterbalance the pushback we’re sure to get from the nobles when they start figuring out that they’re not going to be _quite_ so rich anymore. I know I’m asking you to do a lot of traveling, but I wouldn’t entrust this important work to anyone else.

Cassandra replied, “Of course, Inquisitor, whatever you need,” as her eyes flashed a furtive but telling glance in Cullen’s direction. Cullen appeared to blush slightly with pleasure before agreeing with a circumspect “Yes, Inquisitor. We’ll set out right away.” Elora noticed that Cullen also fidgeted slightly in his chair and thought - aha, this could happen.

Her ideas and energy at last spent, Elora stood, stretching her legs. “Good. I think we’re off to a strong start. Thank you all for your dedication and for coming at this late hour. Let’s all get some rest and think some more about this. We’ll meet again in one month for a status report on everyone’s initial progress and the next stage of planning. I promise our next meeting will be at a more reasonable hour.”

The others laughed softly as they stood, heading toward the door and back to their warm beds, but Iron Bull and Cole had not yet received an assignment and therefore remained in their seats. Bull folded his hands and gave Elora a questioning look, while Cole wore a small secretive smile as if he already knew what was coming. Dorian noticed the silent exchange and whispered to Bull, “I’ll keep the bed warm for you,” before affectionately caressing his shoulder and leaving the room.

Elora, Bull and Cole shared a knowing look as the door finally shut behind them.

Bull finally spoke. “So…where are we going, Boss?

Elora reflected with amusement that no one would ever accuse Bull of being slow on the uptake. She shot him a wry smirk, then directed her gaze at Cole, asking gently -

“Cole, where did Solas go?”

Cole released a huge breath he had been holding and looked up from under his hat, his face marked by profound relief. “I’ve been waiting for you to be ready to ask, ready to know the truth he was too afraid to tell.”

“Is Solas alright?”

He sighed sadly, his shoulders slumping. “He could be if he would just make things better now like you are, but he can’t let go of then.”

“What do you mean by ‘then’?”

“His life before…in Arlathan. Before he became Solas.”

Elora’s head snapped up at ‘Arlathan’ and her mouth dropped open in disbelief as the meaning behind Cole’s words took form in her mind.

She struggled to put the right words together as she wrapped her mind around this revelation.

“Wait a minute. Cole, are you telling me that Solas is an ancient elf that actually lived in the time of Arlathan? That he’s not only from a different place but from a different TIME?”

“Yes, but he didn’t time travel like you did in Redcliffe. He slept for a very long time after he locked the gods away. It took almost all of his power to do it, so he had to rest. He woke up in our time and lives here now like we do.”

 _Locked the gods away…locked the gods away_ …Elora’s mind staggered behind desperate eyes as the enormity of who and what Solas truly was finally hit her.

Her voice shaking, she asked, “Cole, who was Solas before he became Solas?”

“He painted what he couldn’t say. So many wolves. The bright colors were all because of you. The last strokes have no color because leaving you drained all the color from his heart.” Cole’s voice broke with a strangled sob. “Like a trapped animal, he destroyed a part of himself to break free, but oh, how he longed to stay.”

Her own voice constricted by the caustic sting of suppressed tears, Elora whispered, “He’s Fen’Harel.”

Cole nodded and continued, his eyes shining with compassion. “It was _not_ supposed to happen this way. When his orb broke, his power was lost forever.” He gestured at Elora’s left hand. “You have all that’s left of it. He loved you too much to take it from you. He just wants to fix the past, so he left to find the other god and take the power he needs from her.”

Elora realized Cole could only mean Mythal – Morrigan’s mother. Oh, this was bad. The Fen’Harel of legend didn’t exactly have a reputation for doing things on a small scale.  If he was so desperate that he needed to kill another god for enough power to carry out his plan, that plan had to be drastic and extremely dangerous.  She had to find him. _Now_.

“Cole, please, where is he?”

“He hides from me now, but before he started hiding, I could see enough to tell where to start looking. We have to find the place with all the mirrors.”

Elora nervously raked a hand through her hair, looking none too pleased at this prospect. It’s always the Fade with Solas, she sighed inwardly, and rolled her eyes.

“Okay, it looks like the first thing we need to do is pay our friend Morrigan a visit. She has the power of the well and will know if Mythal is still alive. There clearly is no love lost between Morrigan and her mother, but if Solas has killed Mythal, Morrigan could be out for vengeance.  I  _really_ hope not.”

Bull then quipped, “And if memory serves, she also has this cute little parlor trick where she turns into a huge fucking dragon.”

Elora’s dark laugh echoed in the room. “Yes, there is that. Morrigan may have allied with us against Corypheus, but we must still tread carefully. Let’s find out what she knows & take it from there. Grab your gear and meet me in the courtyard in an hour.”

Elora silently wished for the security of Varric’s crossbow to bolster them on the coming journey, but this was one story she couldn’t allow him to write. “Bull, can you have the Chargers ready for an extended trip with us when we get back from Val Royeaux? I don’t know exactly where we’re headed next, but we’re clearly going to need some serious combat support.”

“I’m on it, Boss.”

“Thank you. And I realize I don’t need to say this, but please - tell _no one_ where we’re going or why, and don’t mention Solas or Fen’Harel to _anyone_. This is _his_ secret to tell and I don’t want to risk making things worse for him when we don’t even know where he is yet or how to help him.”

“You can trust us.”

Elora smiled gratefully at them both. “I know, and thank you.” She rose and started toward the door. “See you both in the courtyard in an hour.”


End file.
